


In Need of Hope

by lost_constant



Category: Captain America
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_constant/pseuds/lost_constant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James "Bucky" Barnes has just received the news that Steve Rogers might actually be <i>alive</i>!</p><p>Now he has to try and deal with what this news might <i>really</i> mean to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Need of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isilweth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilweth/gifts).



> This story is written with love and hugs and wonderful holiday wishes for Isilweth! &lt;3

It was always quiet around the New Avengers headquarters at this time in the evening. Most of the time, James hated the quiet. He'd so much rather be out _there_. He'd rather be donning his uniform and wielding his ex-partner's shield. Rather be _fighting_. Too much time in the quiet and he started thinking. _Brooding_, as Natalia liked to call it. Sometimes on things of the past - sometimes on his responsibilities for the future.

_Always_ with a singular name that would rise to his mind.

_Steve._

James sighed and shoved his fingers back through his hair as he paced his way in front of the large window. A street lamp just outside provided the only illumination in the otherwise darkened room. Clad only in a simple pair of pajama pants, James swirled a tumbler of scotch around idly in his bionic hand before lifting it to his lips and knocking it back. The alcohol burned its way soothingly down the back of his throat and into his stomach and he breathed deeply. Turning to the nearby table, he picked up the decanter of scotch and poured himself another glass.

He looked out on the dark streets down below - but he didn't seem to really see them. He stared _into_ them. _Through_ them. Though he was physically present, his thoughts were miles away. Years away. To a time that he would have rather forgotten. To a dark night - much like this one - when he ran bravely into the fray alongside of his revered partner. Best friend. _Brother_. A night that ended with his fall into the icy waters down below. Waters that took not only his breath but his very life away from him...

And as he stared out the window and lifted the glass of scotch once more to his lips, the only thing he could really focus himself on were those words that had haunted him since they'd first been uttered late last night...

_Steve Rogers is **alive**!_

"Didn't expect to find you hanging around here," a voice commented softly from behind him and James turned to look towards the beautiful, silhouette outline of Natalia Romanova where she leaned gracefully against the doorway. "I thought you'd be out tracking down leads on Rogers."

James smirked, shaking his head slightly as he turned back towards the window once more. "Been at that all day – so far, nothing new. Thought I could use just a little bit of quiet. Ya know…to clear my head."

"Shall I go then?"

"No," and the urgency with which he said that word startled even him as he turned, reaching out a hand towards the woman. Then, softening his voice, "No. Please. Stay."

Through the shadows he could see the woman give a smirk at his response – but she was smart enough to know when to poke fun at James and when to simply leave well enough alone. Walking her way into the room, she reached out her hand to take the one that he still held extended towards her and he guided her in gently towards him.

"How're you holding up?" she murmured – and he sighed quietly, the warmth of her body pressed against his own doing more in the way of comfort than any drink ever would. He knocked back the rest of his scotch before setting the tumbler aside and reaching down, pulling her into the secure embrace of his arms.

"Still a little…_unsure_ about all of this."

She tilted her chin upward and he looked down into those eyes that seemed capable of piercing his soul, even in the lamplight. "Unsure? Of what?"

He sighed, shaking his head so that shaggy locks of dark hair fell around his face. "I just…I don't know. Sharon says that Steve is alive but…can we trust her?" He glanced up at Natalia, looking like he was afraid she'd be angry at his words or might hit him for them – but she only looked at him calmly, giving only a curious quirk of her brow. "I mean – really? She's been through so much these past few months! Convinced that she killed Steve. Captured by the Skull. Manipulated and tricked into thinking and doing God knows what. Pregnant. Lost her baby. Nearly killed you and Sam. She's…under a lot of stress right now. Her mind is out of sorts. Can we _really_ trust her word?"

"Do _you_ believe he's still alive?"

"I…_want_ to believe he's still alive." James looked away, his eyes staring distantly out the window. "But what if he isn't? What if Sharon is wrong? What if we go through all this only to find out that it was just some dream? It would feel like…" He paused, swallowing and shaking his head before finally muttering, "It would feel like losing him all over again."

Natalia looked upward and her gaze softened. She could read the pain written across James face, despite how well he so often kept such things hidden from others. She didn't respond for a few moments – but finally he would feel the pressure of her hands taking hold of his face and turning it down towards her.

"I believe her," she murmured, and James blinked.

"You do?"

Natalia nodded. "Mm hm. And I think if you're honest with yourself – you do too. You know he's alive. There's something telling you…" And she slipped one hand down to press against the bare flesh just above his heart.

James breathed in, slow and deep, and his cybernetic hand lifted to cover Natalia's. He closed his eyes, his head lowered. "I just…I _can't_ lose him again, Natalia."

"I know," her voice was a breath. Fingers brushing through his hair so gentle and soothing. "You won't. You're going to find him again – and you're going to bring him back home to us. I know you will. I have faith. Steve Rogers _will_ return. You _will_ see him again, James. I promise you."


End file.
